Her Blackest Days
by psycho-pink-faerie
Summary: Narcissa reflects on her life as a Black, and as a Malfoy. One-shot. References to Narcissa/Lucius and Narcissa/OC


_**Hey guys. New fic from me :] It's written for the Black Family challenge. I'm not completely happy with it, but it'll drive me crazy if I do anything else to it (and we wouldn't want that =P) It's based on one of my favourite songs, and includes several lyrics which are in italics. Bonus points if you can tell me which song it is ;)**_

**_Thank you to Dannii (Another-Picture) for beta'ing._**

**_I hope you enjoy =D_**

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**Summary: Narcissa reflects on her life as a Black, and as a Malfoy. One-shot.**

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**Her Blackest Days**

After the end of the war she'd promptly served Lucius with divorce papers, and as soon as she could, reverted back to the use of her maiden name. Narcissa Malfoy was a Black, through and through. She knew she always had been – as much as it pained her to admit that now. She was fit to have only inherited the mean spirited Black heart from her mother, never coming close to displaying the same levels of courage as her disowned sister. They'd always admitted it – her parents; not once having denied that Andromeda portrayed her father's bravery. It just wasn't in a way that pleased them.

And that at the time was so very important. Privately, a teenage Narcissa had wondered why it mattered so much, and the thought crossed her mind again today. It hadn't gotten her sister anywhere – she'd spent much of her young life trying to impress her parents, finally succeeding the day she joined the Death Eaters. And for what? To die a death where there was no-one who cared enough to cry at her funeral. Not that it would have been any consequence to Bellatrix – she was too far gone for that and had turned into someone her sister scarcely recognised.

And now Narcissa Black sat in the darkness of the creaking wooden hut dressed up in her finest evening wear and dripping with expensive diamonds. It was all she had left, and that was of very little comfort to her now. Lucius had all but begged her to reside in the manor, but she'd chosen this little shack and moved her minimal belongings in that very same day. It was more than she deserved. A single flickering candle made a dent in the blackness, as the rain pelted against the rickety wood and the wind howled miserably outside. For the first time in her life, she was completely alone.

Narcissa had never been who she wanted to be; as a Black or a Malfoy. As the youngest of three sisters, she was constantly overshadowed by first Bellatrix, and then Andromeda during their teenage years. As a Malfoy, she was known only as Lucius' wife – a Death Eaters wife at that, though she'd never been branded herself, nor would she have wanted to be. Contrary to popular belief, she didn't want that title, or the riches it brought.

'_I chose freedom' _

The irony of it was that she hadn't; what she'd done was secured a lifetime fight against the good forces in the world. It was only when the battle had been won, in the harsh light of day that she was able to see how foolish she'd been and of what it had cost her. How she regretted it dearly. Draco didn't want to know, and she couldn't say she blamed him. Parents were supposed to protect and care for their children, not lead them into violence and adversity. She'd stood by and watched as her son – like his father and so many before – got further consumed by darkness and hate, watching only from the sidelines and kept her involvement to the barest minimum. In the distant chambers of her brain, part of her knew what they were doing was wrong, but her sense of pride wouldn't let her turn away; and the famous Black courage failed her once more. He hated her for it and she knew there was no making him see reason. He was far too much like his father.

She'd married Lucius, only because the alternative was a faceless stranger, pure blood of course, selected by her father who had never dreamt she would disobey him. But then she'd never dreamt that her life could have turned out this way by marrying into the Malfoy family. Had she loved him? She could have lied and said she never had, but her conscience echoed the truth. Narcissa had to have loved him once, but not in the way he'd loved her – how could she? When her heart was consumed by thoughts of someone else, and had been for most of her life. Her first love.

She was sixteen and like most of her family, had been sorted into Slytherin. He was seventeen and a Ravenclaw… from a muggle heritage. It could never have worked out, they both knew but it didn't stop her falling for him, and he her. They romanced in secret for several months, never going beyond a heated kiss, until she finally gave herself to him the day before he left Hogwarts. Still, Narcissa had known it could never be anything more than that, yet never regretted a day spent in his company. During her final year, she'd met Lucius, and to a certain extent, started to forget.

_That I still need your love after all that I've done_

But she was forty-three now, and she still had the same feelings, as she had back then. She could picture his face as vividly as the last time they'd met – nearly twenty years ago – and the look of disgust he'd given her, when he saw who she'd become since leaving school. _"I thought you were different Narcissa. It's why I liked you." _His words were bitter and had brought tears to her eyes, which she'd turned away to hide from her husband, who'd just returned from doing business down Knockturn Alley. She watched him walk away, losing him in the crowd, and hadn't seen him since.

The candle's flame grew higher, and shadows danced on the wall behind her. Tears trickled from ice blue orbs, and her hair fell across her face, as she reflected on how different her life could have been, had she made better choices. Narcissa felt, for the first time in a long time, remorse for the way she'd lived her life. She shivered, and wrapped a blanket around her body, closing her eyes as she waited for the morning to come.

She awoke after a restless night's sleep, to the sunlight filtering in through the flimsy curtains, in the same curled up position from the night plans for that day were something she hadn't had to do for a long time. She'd forgotten that the need for sustenance would soon overwhelm her and since there was no longer a house elf around to stock the cupboards, Narcissa would have to go shopping. She apparated from just outside the hut, and appeared with a pop outside Gringotts. Narcissa pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, and heels clicking on the cobbles, made her way down Diagon Alley. As she walked along the street, people stopped to look at her. Training her eyes on the ground, she ignored the suspicious glares of whisperers who didn't trouble to lower their voices. She turned her back on the crowd, and appeared interested in a window display.

_All you will see is a girl you once knew_

_Although she's dressed up to the nines  
_

"Narcissa Malfoy; how the mighty have fallen," She turned abruptly, recognising the voice in an instant, even though it held a note of unfamiliarity. You couldn't have blamed him for she barely recognised herself these days. Her once shiny blonde hair fell lifelessly down over her shoulders and the haughty gleam that had once been present in her expression was gone – replaced by one of only sadness and regret. Dark purple shadows lined her eyes standing out against her deathly white complexion. The only part of her appearance that remained flawless was her clothing, if not slightly out of place in her current location. She wore the same dress as the day before, and only those who got close enough would notice the stains.

A silent tear slipped down a palecheek, "I think you'll find its Narcissa Black." She looked up into the disappointed eyes of the man she'd loved for so many years. He hadn't changed in the slightest. She however, was nothing like he remembered.

He shook his head, "I knew a Narcissa Black once, and she would never have done half of the things you've done." She closed her eyes, silently willing the tears not to fall, but the tears still seeped from beneath her eyelids. "I had you down for a lot of things, but a coward was never one of them."

A small crowd was starting to gather, and people delighted in her despair. Narcissa held her head high; her pride would let her do nothing less. "Then I guess you never really knew me at all."

"I guess I didn't," his voice was hoarse, and every word was tinged with sadness. "My Narcissa would never have treated people the way you have; the riches wouldn't have meant a thing –"

"They don't mean anything," She interrupted, stumbling on the words. He gave a derisive snort and she felt his eyes on the string of diamonds around her neck. "They just– it's all I've got left." Narcissa's voice broke.

He could see the remorse in her eyes; he could hear it in her tears. As much as he wanted to feel something, it was too little, _far _too late. She'd chosen her path all that time ago. And so had he. Slowly he turned his back on her and walked away. It was reminiscent of times before, but this time it was different. He looked back at her over his shoulder, "I really hope it was worth it Narcissa."

Before she could respond he was gone, and this time she knew she'd never see him again.


End file.
